After the interview, I assembled both investigative teams, including my friend George of the Bureau, who pretty well knew everybody there, and had come up that morning to help us with his expertise. Well, that’s what he said. We all knew he was scoping things out for his superiors, but we let it pass. We didn’t know if we might need the FBI in a hurry, and it never hurt to have them up to speed. George Pollard had a new partner, Mike Twill. He went to look over the situation while we talked. There was also the incidental matter of a federal warrant being issued for Herman Stritch, for resisting the serving of a federal process… our guys’ Original Notice had been from the Federal Land Bank. Herman was engaged in some fraudulent practices, it appeared, with the Land Bank the victim. Fine by me. The federal charge was peanuts compared to what we had against Herman, but it was nice to have one in your pocket if you needed it. A federal charge, not a peanut.
We discussed the two investigations, and came to one very obvious conclusion: if we were to ever find out the names of the people involved in the park killings, we were going to have to accomplish two things. One, take both Herman and Bill alive and relatively intact. Two, do so in a way that would gain their cooperation.
Yeah, right.
‘‘I’m not saying this is going to be easy,’’ said Hester.
‘‘Well,’’ said George, ‘‘that’s good, Hester.’’
After a pause, I said, ‘‘It shouldn’t be too hard to get at least one of them alive and well. Probably both. Right?’’
‘‘Sure,’’ said Hester.
‘‘But cooperative doesn’t exactly leap out at me.’’
Al cleared his throat. ‘‘To do that, you gotta give ’em just a bit of what they want.’’
‘‘Yeah, but what Herman seems to want,’’ said George, ‘‘is being held blameless for shooting officers, for not paying contracted debts, and to be placed in charge of an independent state.’’
‘‘Like I said,’’ said Hester.
It’s hard to argue with the truth.
‘‘Look,’’ she said, ‘‘we just have to talk to him some more. We’ll get a hint of something that’ll work.’’
‘‘She’s right,’’ said Al.
‘‘How long do we wait?’’ I asked.
‘‘For what?’’ asked Al. ‘‘The hint?’’
‘‘No. How long do we wait before we go on in and yank ’em out.’’
‘‘I’m not sure that we’d want to do that,’’ said Al.
‘‘Well,’’ I said, ‘‘I think that’s gotta be a county decision.. . and I’m in charge, at least until Lamar gets back. It’s going to be my decision. And there’s absolutely no doubt in my mind that we go in and get ’em after a reasonable wait.’’
‘‘That might be,’’ said Al. ‘‘But we own the TAC team, and if you want to go on in against their advice, I’m afraid you’ll be on your own.’’
I’d been afraid that it was going to come down to that. Liability first.
‘‘Look, Al. It’s a decision that has to be agreed on in advance, because it’s probably going to have to be made in a hurry. You know that.’’ I stood up. ‘‘That’s why I brought it up now.’’
Al didn’t say a word.
‘‘For now,’’ I said, ‘‘I’ll count on using your team. I’ll put something together, you and the team commander approve it, and when the time comes, I’ll use it.’’ Bluff.
Al smiled. ‘‘Have you ever attended a crisis school?’’
Well, he had me there, if you didn’t count the last couple of days. He had, and he also controlled the resources. All I had was three officers, four reserves, and the office staff. And me. And I felt that my luck had been stretched awfully far yesterday.
‘‘Well,’’ said George in a cheerful voice, ‘‘let’s give it a little time, all right?’’
I nodded, noticing how quiet Hester had gotten. Great. With A1 and me disagreeing, she wasn’t going to be available to work freely either. Shit.
I wasn’t going to jump in like an idiot. I think everybody knew that. I hoped they did. What I wanted was a plan for direct intervention, carefully thought out, that I could order up on short notice. What A1 and company wanted was for somebody else to make the call on using force. Specifically, themselves. Legally it was mine. Practically it was theirs. The only thing I was certain of was that they’d be late, no matter what. Because I really felt that we’d have to go in, and maybe in a big hurry. I really did. Anyway, I now had myself lined up to come up with a plan.
Press liaison was our next item. How to do it professionally. So far, either A1 or I had just given them a brief rundown on events, without any real information. What was needed wasn’t my direct approach, it was somebody who could manufacture satisfactory sound bites, present them to the press, and escape without telling them too much. Not me, that was certain. As we discussed it, a little lightbulb came on in my head.
‘‘A1,’’ I said, ‘‘would you do it?’’
‘‘No.’’
‘‘Why not?’’
‘‘It’s not my show, it’s yours.’’
‘‘Hell, A1,’’ I said, ‘‘you’re just so much better-lookin’.’’
There was a slight pause, and then we all started to laugh. Even A1.
‘‘All right, all right,’’ he said. ‘‘You got me on that one. How about we do the press together?’’
About fifteen minutes later, I found myself alone, outside the tent feeling the hot sun very well through my thinning hair, and wanting a cigarette so bad I was ready to kill for it. Then I noticed that the wives of our reserve officers had brought sandwiches. Thick slices of ham, thick slices of cheese, on really big hamburger buns. With thick smears of butter and mustard. Well, what the hell. Oh, have I mentioned I’m also restricted to thirty grams of fat per day, by my cardiologist? Well, I am. As I approached the folding table heaped with food, I decided to take two sandwiches, potato chips, and a can of Pepsi. I smiled at Gloria Nydegger, wife of a reserve officer.
‘‘This’ll be our little secret, Gloria.’’
She smiled back. She knew about my diet. I’d complained about it to everybody I knew. ‘‘Okay. Two?’’
‘‘Shit, Gloria, make it three.’’
‘‘Sounds good. Extra mustard?’’
Oh, why couldn’t state work that way?
I just started the first sandwich when George of the Bureau came over.
‘‘Just had a strange sort of call, Carl.’’
‘‘Mmmmpf?’’ Hard to sound sharp with a mouthful of sandwich.
‘‘A SAC is on his way up. Be here real quick.’’
I swallowed. ‘‘So?’’
‘‘So this is a heavy hitter among heavy hitters, Carl. Fellow named Volont.’’
‘‘Oh, yeah,’’ I said. ‘‘Met him at the meeting in Oelwein.’’
‘‘Well, I’ve never met the man myself,’’ said George. ‘‘Just heard of him.’’
‘‘Yep,’’ I said. ‘‘Well, he seems to have a handle on the dope trade, although I think he believes I’m not too sharp.’’ I grinned, remembering my raincoat.
George gave me a funny look. Just then, his cell phone rang. He answered it, got sort of a quizzical look, and handed it to me.
‘‘It’s for you…’’
‘‘Me?’’ I’d only talked on a cell phone a few times in my life, and sure wasn’t expecting to receive a call.
‘‘Hello?’’ I was expecting an FBI supervisor.
‘‘Carl?’’ asked a muffled voice, slowly and thickly.
‘‘Yes, this is Carl.’’
‘‘Houmph dses goone?’’
‘‘What?’’
‘‘House thinks goanen?’’ Very slow, very deliberate, and just about impossible to understand.